Mars shrugged. “I mean no offense. It is just that, well, you are rather conservative.”
“Not dashing enough for you, eh?”
“Don’t take a bite out of me. I’m on your side. Still, I must be honest, there isn’t a single woman between here and the coast who wouldn’t like your ring on her finger. And most of them think you are as poor as a church mouse and live off of Winderton, versus the other way around. Don’t worry. Neither Thurlowe nor I have told anyone,” Mars said in answer to Bran’s frown. “Although, I think you are foolish for not telling Winderton the truth.”
“And let him know what a fool his father was?” Bran shook his head. “I wasn’t ready for that conversation, especially with Lucy swimming in her mourning black.”
“You can’t put it off forever.”
“I can for another month or two. When the time is right, I’ll sit him down and explain. He actually isn’t that bad off. I’ve done well in rebuilding the Winderton coffers.”
“Except you still own the deed to Smythson. His family were fools not to have it entailed.”
Bran agreed. “Everything I have will go to him upon my death,” he answered.
“Unless you marry and have a child.”
Bran snorted his opinion of that suggestion. “I see no reason to marry... unlike you who will need to do so sooner or later to breed an heir.”
“I pray it is more later than sooner.”
“Do you think about it? Marriage, that is?”
Mars shrugged. “No, in fact I don’t know how most men do it. How can I settle on just one woman when there are so many waiting to be sampled?”
The earl routinely kept a mistress in London although he cycled through them frequently. He did have fickle tastes. And Bran had noticed that his friend seemed of late to prefer the country life. His trips to Town were becoming less frequent—a complaint his latest paramour made to anyone willing to listen. Usually when a mistress complained she was being neglected, it was a signal she was looking for a new protector. Seeing Mars stretched out in his chair, apparently enjoying the sounds of the running stream, Bran doubted if he cared if his current lady bird flew away.
Mars looked over at him. “So how did Winderton meet the actress? He hasn’t left Maidenshop that I know of.”
“She is in a traveling troupe. Their wagon broke down right at the edge of the estate.”
“Ah, fate.”
Yes,fate. Bran took a pull on his ale. It no longer tasted good to him. “I knew her once. We met years ago. Before I went off to India.”
“Was she yours?” Mars asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
His?A memory came to him, of that one very special afternoon and the aftermath, his noticing the bloodstains. His pride in recognizing that she had chosen him. His silent vow to protect her with his life, with all he had to offer...
He weighed how much to say. “No.”
Mars leaned forward. “But you wished her to be?”
“I was young. A fool.” And daffy in love. Enough so that when she went off with Hemling she crushed his heart. He’d been stunned that she could turn to another as quickly as she did—
He’d never understood it... save for the other man was a marquis. She’d thrown Bran over for a title. For rank and privilege, although look at her now.
“And now she is setting her hooks into Winderton?” Mars asked.
“That is the reason I ordered her to leave. I said if she didn’t, I would have the magistrate on her.” He shot a guilty glance at Mars who groaned.
“God, I hate the job. How did I end up with it?”
“We appointed you, remember? You were in London and they asked Ned and me what we thought.”
“Well, what are friends for?” Mars’s brows came together in concern. “Does she know of your connection to the duke? Perhaps even before she came?”
“And this was all planned? I don’t think so.” The question surprised Bran. “Kate didn’t react one way or the other when I mentioned my relationship to the duke. In truth...” This was humbling to admit. “She didn’t recognize me.”
